


Spirit

by misanthropiclycanthrope



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Birthday, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4298763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misanthropiclycanthrope/pseuds/misanthropiclycanthrope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Athos is reluctant to celebrate...initially.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ComeHitherAshes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComeHitherAshes/gifts).



> Very quick birthday fic for the lovely ComeHitherAshes. For sharing all those feels (:
> 
> Happy birthday!

Athos froze in the doorway of his apartments, staring in suspicion first at the spread of food and drink arranged on a table, and then at his three friends, all of whom looked far too pleased with themselves.

“What is this?”

Ignoring his question, Aramis ushered him inside, pressing a glass of wine into his hand with a wide smile.

“You thought you’d gotten away with it, didn’t you?”

“With what?” Athos ventured, already dreading the answer.

“We couldn’t let your birthday pass by without celebrating!” d’Artagnan insisted, oblivious to Athos’s growing discomfort.

“How did you…?” Athos paused. He didn’t need to ask. “I’m going to murder Treville.”

“That c’n wait ’til tomorrow.” Porthos dragged Athos down beside him with a fortifying squeeze to his shoulder that Athos silently appreciated. “Tonight, we get to spoil you.”

Athos grunted, reluctantly accepting his fate, but as he took a sip of the wine he realised that if he had to suffer a birthday celebration he would rather it be here, in his own rooms, surrounded by only his closest friends. They knew him so well, and he had no real reason to resist. Gradually, he felt himself surrendering to their obvious affection.

With a proud grin, d’Artagnan produced a cloth-wrapped package and held it out to Athos expectantly. Athos eyed it warily for a moment before accepting it. Even before unwrapping it he could tell the cloth concealed a bottle, but as he took an appraising sniff of the vessel’s contents an eyebrow arched in delighted surprise. He recognised a decent Armagnac when he smelt one, and this one must have demanded a hefty price.

D’Artagnan’s smile grew wider at the sight of Athos’s approval. “Aramis and I spent all afternoon finding that for you.”

Ah. That explained their unexplained absence. But now Athos felt only warm delight at the gesture, rendered speechless that they would go to such effort for him.

After a moment, he managed a soft, “Thank you.”

“Our pleasure,” Aramis said with a nod and then busied himself serving up food and pouring more wine for them all.

The evening passed companionably, and Athos was surprised to be enjoying himself. He typically shied away from this kind of affair, especially those with himself as the focus, preferring to suffer his memories alone. But he hadn’t reckoned on the sheer force of their friendship.

It was the one thing that saved him from losing himself in the darkness.

As the light dimmed and their conversation and laughter quieted, Athos didn’t resist as Porthos pulled him close, leant against his solid bulk as an arm snaked around his waist.

“Thank you.” Athos’s voice was low, a whisper for Porthos’s ears only, and Porthos knew he was thanking him for more than just the food.

Porthos grinned, his teeth a white flash in the candlelight. “Wait ’til later,” he growled, voice full of promise. “I ain’t given you my gift yet.”

“I’m not sure you can better the brandy.”

This time Porthos’s smile was wolfish, his arm tightening its hold, blunt fingers grazing down Athos’s side.

“Challenge accepted.”


End file.
